When I was a pup of 6 years experience in this world, I made a promise I honestly believed I had the ability to keep. I promised my father that I’d stay 6 forever.

Until the end of days, a 6-year-old boy; wide-eyed and pudgy-faced.

Now a father myself, I have the knowledge of what it means to believe in the way that my dad believed me then. He never once told me I couldn’t keep that promise, that it’s an impossibility. He never once laughed and said, “sure, son, sure you will.” There wasn’t an ounce of condescension in him when I would repeat again and again that “I am going to be your 6-year-old son forever.”

This is just one of the reasons he was, and remains, a brilliant father. Because often, the best qualities of a person exist in the moments when nothing is said, when a smile and a hug, and maybe a tear are all one releases into the world.

I have done my damnedest to keep my promise to stay 6 forever as best I can as a 14, 25, and now 37 year old. I believe that a part of me remains frozen in time, in 1982; a wide-eyed, pudgy-faced boy with tiny arms still wrapped tightly around my daddy’s neck, cheek pressed tightly against cheek. Yes, in fact, I am certain of it, a vital part of me is very much still in that moment. And will always be. Because I’m not one to break promises.

When my girls make similar promises now; to always be my babies, to always want a cuddle from daddy, to go far but never stray, I smile and I hug them, and maybe a tear will fall, because a part of me is freezing them right there, locking those words and looks and love away forever so that they will always be able to keep their promises too.

6 Comments

Jeff! I can totally relate to this. I’ve been thinking so much about time lately. As a parent time is thought of in so many different ways. In some ways it’s compartmentalized into slots in which we can get things done. In other ways it’s a reminder that things are ever changing and evolving, including our little ones. I’m going to get choked up here. But, I’ve been asking Emily if she can just stay 4 forever and that she has to promise. Sometimes I wonder if that’s too much to ask of her but for me it’s a way to try and capture the smile, the chubby cheeks, the quick wit. She just smiles and says “even though I’m growing up, I promise to still talk like I do and to snuggle with you.” Seriously, Jeff, now I’m crying. Well done. Ugh…..who’s got a tissue?!

Yes to all of this. Thank you for sharing your daughter’s adorable promises. When Mouse was little, the Bear, Mrs. and I would all fawn over the funny way she’d pronounce certain words and none of us would correct her because we know someday soon those misspoken word would be gone forever.